


prepare for trouble (and make it double)

by Zari_x_Charlie (SuperSanversShipper)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow and the Canaries (TV)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/F, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Pre-Relationship, dinahsiren week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSanversShipper/pseuds/Zari_x_Charlie
Summary: “Besides, I’d do a lot more for thirty bucks.”Laurel mentally cheers when Dinah chokes on her beer, her cheeks flushing a dark pink.ORThe one where they dress as villains for a costume party.
Relationships: Dinah Drake/Earth-2 Laurel Lance
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	prepare for trouble (and make it double)

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to go fluffy for this one lol, dont expect this to last. For Dinahsirenweek Day 2: Both Villains. I uhhh. I would like to point out that both Laurel and Dinah are dressed!! As!! Villains!!! So it counts.

Laurel’s never been a big fan of costume parties, really. It may have had something to do with how often she wore costumes in her own daily life, but something about it -- something about using clothes to disguise herself, pretend to be someone she wasn’t -- had always rubbed her wrong. So, when she and the team had come up with the plan to sneak into a potential drug kingpin’s costume party, she’d been anything but enthused.

But now, standing to the side of James Fitzgerald’s ridiculously large ballroom, Laurel finds herself actually enjoying the party -- or at least, observing all the stupid things rich people do to try and show each other up. Even though she’d only been there an hour, Laurel had already counted three rich people comparing yacht sizes, at least six men explaining the “best way” to work the stock market, and a few others comparing the value of their Halloween costumes.

“I still can’t believe you actually dyed your hair blue.”

Laurel turns to the sound of Dinah’s voice as she holds out a beer to Laurel, an amused but not entirely surprised look on her face. Laurel grabs the beer with her left hand, her other hand unconsciously going to play with the single lock of periwinkle hair that she’d let fall in front of her face.

“I mean,” she answers, “I’ve been meaning to change my hair a bit, and this seemed less dramatic than shaving it off.”

Dinah rolls her eyes, bringing up her free hand to adjust her ridiculous magenta wig once more. Her costume clearly isn’t very high quality, especially compared to Laurel’s -- the wig is a little too wiry, and the Team Rocket uniform is clearly cheap and mass produced -- a testament to how little Dinah cares for these parties as well.

But Dinah is also holding herself a little too stiffly, and Laurel half-wonders why she once chose to be an undercover cop when she clearly was so uncomfortable with this charade. She’s hardly the only one who’s noticed Dinah’s discomfort either. From across the room, Laurel’s spotted Mia and Zoe sending concerned looks to Dinah and questioning looks to her, as if they expected Laurel to know the source of Dinah’s behaviour. Worse, their host, Mr. Fitzgerald, has been scrutinizing Dinah as well, as though something about her is suspicious.

Laurel knows that Dinah needs to relax a little -- and fast. She scans the room once more trying to find something to loosen Dinah up a bit, when her eyes catch the edge of her own dyed hair, and she smirks.

“Besides,” Laurel adds, belatedly continuing their earlier conversation, “There’s a lot I’d do for thirty bucks.”

Laurel can spot the exact moment when the implications of her statement hit Dinah, and she mentally cheers when Dinah chokes on her beer, her cheeks flushing the same dark pink as her hair. Laurel reaches over to rub Dinah’s back as she coughs, smirking as she notices Dinah’s blush growing deeper at the act.

When her coughing finally dies down, Dinah blatantly ignores Laurel’s eyes, fiddling lightly with the neck of her beer bottle, before she responds. “Really?”

Laurel laughs a little, glancing up to see Fitzgerald’s gaze wandering elsewhere, no longer fixed on Dinah, “Yeah, definitely.”

“So, what if I bet thirty bucks to say you wouldn’t go out with me?”

Laurel’s gaze snaps back to Dinah, who’s still looking directly at her beer bottle, as though afraid to look at Laurel. Laurel lets herself soften a little bit, reaching over to grab Dinah’s free hand, pulling her friend’s attention to her with it.

“Then, I’d say that you’re a dumbass, and earn another thirty bucks to boot,” Laurel replies, hoping that Dinah understands what she’s trying to say.

“Yeah?” Dinah asks, a shy but utterly brilliant smile on her face as she glances down at their joined hands, the party a half-forgotten backdrop to their conversation.

“Yeah,” Laurel answers, heart hammering in her chest as Dinah’s gaze flickers up to Laurel’s lips and back down to their hands again.

“Hey, lovebirds, our cover’s blown, we gotta go,” Mia’s voice crackles in over their comms, breaking the moment, and Laurel glances back up to see Fitzgerald’s men making a beeline for herself and Dinah’s spot near the wall.

Dinah tugs at her hand, and Laurel follows her as the two of them rush for the nearest exit, climbing over the fence to where they’d stashed their bikes. As the two henchmen near their position, Laurel glances over at Dinah, who’s hurriedly pulling off her wig to replace it with her helmet, “You know, there’s that diner on 3rd street that makes really great pancakes.”

“Laurel, it’s ten PM,” Dinah retorts, sending her a look that’s half-amused and half-exasperated.

“They’re really good pancakes,” Laurel smirks, just as the henchmen finally make their way to the top of the fence, and Dinah gestures at Laurel to put her helmet on and go.

It isn’t till later, when they’re finally on the highway, far away from the Fitzgerald mansion, that Dinah asks, “So, how good did you say those pancakes were?”

**Author's Note:**

> did the fact that im rich-people-phobic come through in my writing? because i really tried to make sure that came through in my writing. anyway, i can’t get onto tumblr or ao3 right now (and this fic is brought to yall by my amazing friend jay), but still, pls comment below, or invade my askbox on tumblr (behrad-tarazis) or just at me on my twitter (@behrad_tarazis) because I love speaking to yall, even if ur just screaming at me.


End file.
